


Dance Within the Light

by idiosyncraticWordsmith (literaryAspirant)



Series: Paradox-9 [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Burden of Light, Dancing, M/M, gay fluff for my OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 03:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryAspirant/pseuds/idiosyncraticWordsmith
Summary: Paradox-9 is a Warlock with a lot on his mind. Max Redblood is a researcher with a boyfriend who forgets how to enjoy a celebration, but that's alright; Max enjoys reminding him. Fluff for my OC ship, featured in Burden of Light.





	Dance Within the Light

“I always love this view,” Max remarked.

“It isn’t a bad sight,” Paradox conceded. “It’s nicer than the Rubicon Wastes.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Max pointed out neutrally. Paradox chastised himself internally. The entire dynamic of their relationship was colored by the chasm of experience between them. It was a poor choice to highlight that chasm.

The City was, indeed, beautiful to look at. The bazaar was lively with festivity, even this late at night. Undoubtedly there was even more life churning downtown, in the City proper. Paradox observed the interior of the City, nestled safely beneath the Traveler. He thought about the parties undoubtedly occurring right now in the shadow of the Divine Emissary of the Sky. He smiled at the absurdity of it; he wondered if the Traveler had ever had such celebrations so near to it. Was it watching them get inebriated and dance and sing and blare music? Did it like it?

It didn’t move, so maybe it did. But that was silly; it never moved. Paradox envied its immovability, its resilience, its immunity to fear. He felt afraid. He feared how mutable he was, how easily broken under the weight of the Dark.

He was a Guardian. But even Guardians could break.

“Paradox?” Max asked suddenly.

Paradox looked at him, his artificial eyes taking him in. Dressed up, so formal, so gussied up. His platinum hair slicked back into a braid, his pink eyes sparkling in the glow of the lights.

“You’re thinking,” Max observed, an understanding smile on his face.

“I usually am,” Paradox shrugged, looking back out at the City.

“You’re _overthinking_,” Max corrected. “It’s a day of celebration. You can let yourself go a bit.”

“I am,” Paradox argued.

“You aren’t,” Max sighed, like a parent bemusedly trying to explain things to a child. “You’re caught up in yourself, in whatever vast cosmic mystery your thoughts are tangled in right now.”

Paradox tapped his fingers impatiently. He knew Max was right. It didn’t mean he had to admit to it.

Then, music began.

It was soft, though, not music for raving. It was a small live band, with old crafted instruments. The song was lively but graceful. Paradox didn’t recognize it, but it was obviously a social song. People paired off at the sound of it and began to dance around in practiced ways, laughing and chatting. Paradox watched this with interest, fascinated by the social ritual. He was content to stay at a distance and watch, but Max had a different idea.

Paradox felt a hand grab his, and pull him away from the balcony and towards the dance.

“Where are we going?” Paradox asked.

“To dance, silly,” Max laughed. “You need to relax, and I’d like to more on this date than wistfully watching the City from a distance.”

Paradox couldn’t protest. Max was right about the date; it wouldn’t be fair to take him out and see him looking like that and not enjoy it more.  Still, he wasn’t exactly known for his dancing skills. For all of his time studying on and off the field, he had spent none of it learning about social rituals.

_We can fix that with time,_ he heard Lexicon report inside his brain.

_There are more important things to study_ , Paradox argued.  _I don’t want to waste my time._

_ That’s a good argument for people with discrete limits on their natural lifespans,_ Lexicon pointed out.  _You are not among that demographic_ .

“Do you know this dance?” Max asked as they entered the dance floor. It was an innocent question, but Paradox still felt guilty answering.

“I… don’t,” he admitted.

“That’s fine,” Max smiled, laughing at his partner. “ It’s easy to pick up. Just follow my lead...”

Max set his hands on Paradox, then helped position Paradox’s hands. He moved with the tempo, instructing Paradox step by step. It was an easy repetitive movement, certainly nowhere near as complicated as some of the rituals and maneuvers Paradox had studied and practiced in the field.

“Not too hard, right?” Max asked.

“Not as hard as killing an Ogre,” Paradox joked. Max laughed at that. Paradox was glad. He loved hearing Max laugh.

“I certainly hope so,” Max replied. Paradox knew he didn’t, but it somehow felt like Max had come even closer to him.

The two of them joked and talked and laughed and danced, moving faster and with more confidence. Paradox didn’t pay attention to it when his Ghost materialized and floated over to the band. Lexicon spoke to the instrumentalists, and, abiding his request, they began to play a bit faster. Paradox and Max kept pace; as new as Paradox was to it, he was, after all, a fast learner for a Guardian; this was child’s play for him.

He loved the kinetic energy of it. The social energy. The… energy of it. He found love in the steps, joy in the motion, and beauty in Max’s face as they moved together in unison.  They tried more and more moves, spins and reversals. Paradox was spared from sweat, but Max was not, and was covered in it shortly. They eventually had to slow and stop for his sake, for fear that his condition might act up with all the excitement. But Max never let such things dampen his mood, and it was obvious he was just glad to have the chance to enjoy such a moment with his Guardian.

As Max caught his breath, he embraced Paradox, who held the mortal man in his arms closely. The two stood like that, close and tight together, as Paradox looked out again towards the City. He saw the Traveler again,  its immovable form. A few minutes ago he had envied that massive, immovable shape.

But then he understood that to be immovable would mean being static. The Traveler remained still for centuries, not moving for fear, but also not moving for joy. As a City rejoiced below, it stayed still, in spite of the fun below. If he were as immovable as the Traveler, he wouldn’t be able to dance with Max.

He didn’t mean to be heretical, but in this sense, he felt himself superior to the Traveler.

“Are you overthinking again?” Max asked, his breath returning. Paradox smiled and stroked his light hair.

“Just about how much I love you,” Paradox answered. It was the only subject that he could never think too much about.

_Lexicon, remind me to study more social dances,_ he thought.


End file.
